Page 93 of Souvenir of Love

Thirty-Four

It was dusk when the coach stopped along a lonely stretch of road.If it could be called a road, James reflected, glancing out the window. It was really more of a rutted track, one that hadn’t been used recently, from the look of the grass growing up and around it. He hadn’t been paying much attention to their surroundings; his mind was too filled with thoughts of Marcus.Where was he now? Would his forged papers hold up to the scrutiny of the checkpoints, especially with the French on heightened alert? Would he find Marguerite? And if so, how would he get her out?

He looked at Elizabeth, stirring out of a half sleep, as the coach stopped, her chestnut curls tickling his cheek. He knew he’d had no other choice but to let Marcus go. He knew, all too well, the agony of seeing a loved one in danger, and feeling helpless to save her. The memory of Elizabeth surrounded by soldiers, amidst the gunfire and the fighting, swinging the fallen soldier’s musket, replayed in his head. If he’d turned back, she’d have followed, and he couldn’t let that happen.Not again.

But still, the decision to let the man go alone didn’t sit right. Grenville had charged him with getting the team safely out of France—the whole team. And so, he’d agreed Andre andDavid could follow after him as soon as they’d seen Joley safely onboard the rescue cutter.

The door of the carriage swung open, and David stood by the folding stairs.

James took Elizabeth’s hand and helped her down. A relentless wind swept forward to meet them, whistling up from the face of a cliff a short distance away. It flattened the sparse sea grass and bent the few trees like wizened women in the wake of a king. As they began walking toward the edge of the cliff, David hurrying ahead of them waving a lantern to signal the waiting ship, James felt as desolate as the landscape.

His fingers tightened around Elizabeth’s.To keep her from falling, he told himself. Then fought back a bitter laugh—as if he hadn’t caused her to fall already.

When Moreham had asked him that day in the library if it was redemption he sought in France, he’d brushed the question aside. It was what he always did—brush aside the expectations of others; if he refused to accept them, he couldn’t fail to meet them.

He caught a thorny branch, held it aside so Elizabeth could pass. She kept hold of his hand, pulling him after her.

Though he had denied it, Moreham and Marcus had been right. Hehadhoped that by saving the Frenchman, by doing something selfless and good, he might somehow save himself, too.Redeem himself.

And yet, here he was, still the same flawed man. He’d done all that Grenville asked, strengthened his spy networks, saved de Joley, but his team was turning back. As for Elizabeth…

She tugged at his hand, the long strands of chestnut hair flying loose about her face making her look like some wild sea creature.

As much as his heart yearned to be with her, he knew she was far better off without him.

With her free hand, Elizabeth gestured to where Amaury de Joley stood a short distance from David, looking out to the sea. “Look at the comte. He looks like he’s standing on the edge of the world.”

James studied the figure of the comte, a fragile silhouette against the moonlit sky. “In a sense, he is. He’s standing at the edge of the world as he’s known it.”

“I’m sorry, James.”

He turned to look at her, confused by her sudden change of subject. “Sorry for what?”

“For all the thoughtless things I’ve done.” She swept a hand back through her hair, but the wind only loosened more strands. “The trouble I’ve brought you.”

“The trouble…you’ve broughtme?”

“When I made love with you in the library, it was as if I’d crossed an invisible line. Not by breaking society’s rules, but how I felt when you touched me. After…I tried to pretend that nothing had changed, that I could go on as before. But I couldn’t, no matter how hard I tried. And then, for a time, a very brief, black time, I thought there was no use in trying. That’s why you found me walking on the wall. It seems ridiculous now, but I thought I was putting my life in fate’s hands. And then you appeared, and I overheard you talking in the library. It was fate.” She gave a sharp laugh. “And I was jealous.”

“Ofme?” She was speaking rapidly, while his mind seemed to have slowed to a crawl; James struggled to make sense of what she was saying.Despair had driven him to her brother’s estate.

“You’d found a way to change everything about your life,” she continued. “You were leaving England, going somewhere new, embarking on a grand adventure…”

“A grand adventure?” he said with disbelief.

“At least, that’s whatIthought it was. I imagined you,us, sweeping in and rescuing Monsieur de Joley.” She nodded at thecliff. “We’d save him, carry him back to England, where he could start over and we…” Her voice trailed off.

James tightened his grip on her hand.

“So could we. I didn’t think…”

“That men might die?” he said harshly. “I warned you this was dangerous work.” She nodded, swallowed hard. “I was naïve. And…as my brother and my tutors have frequently pointed out, I seem to learn best by doing.”

“An unfortunate trait.”

“So I’ve been told, but I do learn. And James, you saved the Comte de Joley’s life. If his work in England helps bring an end to the Revolution and restore peace between our countries, then who knows how many more lives you’ll be responsible for saving?”

“You insist on seeing the best in me.”